


It's Just a Feeling

by Illegible_Scribble



Series: 31 Days of Frodo/Sam, 2018 [10]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: A little fluffy, Bad Dreams, Established Relationship, Hair Pulling (gentle tugging), Kinktober 2018, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Quest, Relative Premonition, Smoochtober 2018, supportive boyfriend!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 07:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16259657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illegible_Scribble/pseuds/Illegible_Scribble
Summary: On a night several years after Bilbo's going away party, Sam is pleasantly awakened by Frodo's insistent kisses, which progressively turn into something more frisky. During which, Frodo discovers something new he enjoys - but after, reveals his amorous mood wasn't mere happenstance.





	It's Just a Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [Smoochtober](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/132744) and [Kinktober's](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/112710) prompts for Day #10: Kiss on the Lips, and Hair Pulling, respectively.

It began with a gentle headbutt and a nuzzle, and Sam felt a soft pair of lips press against his own. He was only just waking, but obliged them with a returning kiss all the same, before their shared angle shifted and another nose rubbed against his, asking for more and deeper kisses.

Sam began to wake more fully now, and irresistibly opened his eyes, which for a moment met the most familiar ones he'd ever known. They'd long since blown out the candles and the curtains were drawn, yet Frodo's eyes seemed somehow luminous all on their own, as if they each held a star inside them.

Affirmed this now wasn't a dream, Sam closed his eyes again and relaxed, progressively beginning to kiss with more wakefulness and enthusiasm as he fumbled to find Frodo's head and hair with his hands.

Frodo broke away from their kisses to tilt his head this way and that as Sam rubbed his scalp, and as Frodo shifted his weight more and more on top of Sam, Sam could feel more than he could hear the contented humming from Frodo's throat.

Soon after, Frodo turned his head to nose and kiss at one of Sam's arms, before he shifted himself to straddle Sam at the hips. He leaned back down, peppering Sam's face and neck with kisses, before nosing at the collar of his nightshirt. “Why do we still wear this silly things?” he asked of Sam's collarbone.

“'Cause it's proper.” said Sam, matter-of-factly.

Frodo's mouth was suddenly up by his ear, and his breath was so gentle and hot Sam's skin prickled. “Well,” Sam could feel Frodo shifting his knees down lower, and one of his hands ran up Sam's leg, beneath the night shirt, “we aren't very proper, are we?”

Sam answered with a whimper as Frodo sat back, and put both hands to work pushing Sam's nightshirt up and over his stomach and chest. With enough cooperative squirming and sitting up from Sam, it was over his arms and head and lost somewhere to the bed or floor in moments.

From there, Frodo resumed his kisses at Sam's neck, and continued them down his chest in a leisurely wander, pausing at each nipple to lick and gently graze them with his teeth. “Awful eager tonight, it seems,” said Sam, breathing raggedly as he squirmed, his desire growing.

“Mmhm,” said Frodo, kissing down Sam's sternum, “I had dream.”

“Oh-” Sam had meant it as a question, but it became an exclamation when Frodo stuck his tongue in Sam's navel. “I- unh-”

“Mm,” replied Frodo, following and nosing the downy trail of hairs that lead between Sam's legs. Sam did have on a pair of thin briefs, but they disappeared with a few deft movements of Frodo's hands, and a bit of squirming by the both of them.

While Frodo's mouth wasn't on him, Sam managed to ask, “What were it about?”

Frodo didn't begin answering until after he'd placed a kiss at the joint of Sam's now-bare left hip. “In the end, I thought of you,” he said, kissing across Sam's pelvis until his cheek rubbed against the firmness of Sam's shaft.

“Me?” Sam wheezed, struggling not to buck his hips, and managing to find his hands in Frodo's hair again.

Frodo's head rose, and he smiled, lips glittering with saliva as they were poised so wonderfully near Sam's head. “What else would I dream about?” he asked, placing a kiss on the soft tip.

For some moments all Sam could articulate was a strangled moan, and he felt Frodo's hands settle gently on his hips. “E-elves?” he offered at length.

Frodo slipped his crown into his mouth, and 'hmm'd, making Sam cry out with pleasure. “You're much more pleasant.” Frodo said, slipping off of Sam.

The most Sam was able to articulate by then was a string of whimpers and moans as Frodo intermittently licked and kissed up and down his length, paying particular mind to the especially sensitive spot on the underside of his crown. The whole while Sam's hands were in Frodo's hair and rubbing his scalp as before, but when Frodo began to gently rub his bottom teeth against that spot, Sam cried out again and inadvertently lost his grip on Frodo's head, and fully tugged his hair. Tugged it enough to pull Frodo's mouth right off of Sam, and make him gasp in surprise.

Hazily Sam looked down, and began rubbing the injured scalp with his thumb, trying to sputter out, 'Sorry' as he did, but Frodo softly shushed him. “No- no, I... I like that,” he said, and rubbed his head against Sam's hand, “do it again?”

It took Sam a moment to process this, during which he simply stared, trying to put together what Frodo wanted. Furrowing his brow, he tangled his thumb and forefinger around a tuft of Frodo's hair, and gave it a gentle tug. “Harder,” breathed Frodo, and Sam obeyed, trying to find the line between a gentle tug and a painful jerk. Frodo stiffened at the pull, but a pleased expression came over his face. “Yes- yes, like that, but- a little harder, and- more.”

Sam's mind was addled by a number of things, and so he was slow to gather up larger locks of Frodo's hair. He would've thought this would hurt Frodo, but at the same time finding something new Frodo liked was exciting. As he had asked, Sam used both hands to pull Frodo's hair this way and that, causing Frodo to whimper and even moan with pleasure.

After a number of tugs, and Frodo seemed relaxed enough to melt enough on top of him, Sam slowed and stopped the pulls, and settled to rubbing Frodo's scalp. “You do like that?”

Frodo hummed, nodding. “It sort of makes me feel- shivery, all over; the pleasurable sort. And- if you don't pull too hard, it's... It's pleasant, the stress.” he looked down at Sam, his eyes warm but satisfied, like cooling embers. “Thank you.”

“I-” Sam started, but couldn't finish as Frodo slipped his mouth over Sam's shaft again. Though he couldn't clearly speak any more, Sam could still think coherently enough to start tugging on Frodo's hair again, quickly enough causing Frodo to start humming continuously. The humming, and warm wetness of Frodo's mouth, in turn, sent Sam tumbling over the edge in a matter of breaths, and with a cry he stiffened and spilled. Frodo caught it all, and even gently squeezed Sam a few times after he had finished, to get any last drops before swallowing, and sitting back in satisfaction.

Sam felt equal parts exhausted and riddled with pleasure, and managed a slurred, “Love you,” before a thought crossed his mind and cleared some of the contended fog, “but- what about you?”

Frodo shushed him with a kiss and less than gracefully lay down beside him again, before snuggling close and resting his head on Sam's chest. “Do you remember I mentioned a dream?” he asked.

Sam nodded, recalling something like that had been said since they woke up. “Aye, more or less.”

“In part because of that, I'm fine at least until morning,” Sam could feel Frodo's mouth curve up in a brief smile, “don't worry.”

Sam felt almost inclined to fall back asleep again at that reassurance, but couldn't stop himself asking, “So- why- why get up n' pleasure me as well?”

Sam felt one of his nipples be pinched in an affectionate reprimand. “Because, for one, I adore you, Samwise. And also... Though I recall the dream was at one point pleasant, the latter part of it... unsettled me.” Frodo held to Sam tighter, as if frightened of something, and Sam put a reassuring arm around his shoulders. “There was something delightful at the start,” he continued, “and it pleasured me, somehow. It avowed me something great, I remember, but the longer I spent with it, the more alone and frighteningly cold I realized it was, and I felt. All the warmth seemed to have fled the world, and I was alone but for it; and... whatever it was, I needed it. I had nothing else; it... it was everything.

“I woke up, then, and you've no idea how much of a relief it was to feel you warm and so near. By then I couldn't help but want reassurance, however, that the waking world wasn't some mistake or other nightmare, and... Well, hence the kisses. I needed to touch and... Feel you, and... taste you, I suppose. To remind myself you're real, and you're warm and gentle, and love me.” Frodo placed a shy kiss on his chest. “Thank you for obliging my fancy – well, fancies, especially with the hair pulling. I'd never thought of it before. I do like it.”

As much as physics would allow, Sam cuddled Frodo closer and stroked his hair. “Ain't no effort on my part, Frodo. I am right sorry about your dream, but I'm glad I could help you come out of it; don't worry about waking me if you've another. Want to help you feel better after it, if I can.”

Frodo didn't say anything for time enough that Sam nearly dropped off to sleep, before he said suddenly, “It's not the first time I've dreamed of something like it. This... is just the first time it felt... so good, and so frightening.” Sam grabbed at the comforter and pulled it over them, trying to offer what reassurance he could. “It's... ah, what would you call it... Oh- reoccurring. It's the same sort of dream over and over again, but it seems to progress a bit more each time. I... I'm worried, now, what will happen after this one.”

“How long've they been going on?”

With a shaking hand and fingers, Frodo began tracing nonsensical shapes on Sam's chest as he thought. “I think- well, really, not long after Bilbo's going-away party. I didn't think very much of them, then, but now I remember this same sort of uneasy feeling from not long... Not long after he left.”

Sam stilled Frodo's wandering hand with one of his own, and rubbed it gently. “Afeard I can't offer much clever thought about it, like, but I'm still here with you. Have you talked it over with Gandalf?”

“The few times he has been here, I hadn't really been thinking about it.” replied Frodo, trying to snuggle closer. “And even if it did come to mind, I... I sort... make myself forget, hoping it'll just go away on its own. … As you know, now, it hasn't yet.”

“We could go see Mrs. Harrowfoot on the morrow,” Sam suggested, referring to Hobbiton's apothecary. “Think she might have sommat for bad dreams.”

“I suppose it's worth an effort,” said Frodo, sounding unhappy. “If it works I shall be glad, but I've a worry in my heart this somehow isn't so simple – that somehow it's bigger than me, even. I just can't explain why.”

“I'm sure Gandalf at the least'll have answers when he's next here – and you will tell him, won't you?”

Frodo hesitated, a strange feeling of fear seizing him. “I do want to. I'll try to. I... I don't want this to last forever.”

Sam shifted just enough so he could kiss the top of Frodo's head. “I'll do me best to make sure it don't. If you aren't wanting to go back to sleep as it is, I could make us up some tea, mayhap with some biscuits?”

“... Yes, that would be lovely, and I'll help as well. Thank you, Sam; you're the finest hobbit a hobbit could ever love.”

“Nay,” said Sam as they sat up, “that right enough is _you_.”

 

–

 

After a few cups of tea and several biscuits, Sam kindled a fire in the hearth, and the two settled in Bilbo's old armchair before it. In something of a role reversal from their younger years, when Frodo had read aloud to Sam, Sam now read aloud to Frodo of the history of Rohan, far to the East.

Frodo wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep, but surely enough he must've, as in the morning he awoke back in bed, cuddled against Sam's chest. No more ill dreams had plagued him in the night, but still a sense of unease tingled in his spine, and once and for all he decided he would speak with Gandalf about it, next the wizard appeared.

Unfortunately, Frodo did not see him again for a long time.

When he did, everything became clear, with a clarity so horrifyingly thorough it was to Frodo as if the ground beneath his feet had turned to glass, and there was nothing beneath it.


End file.
